By Darby Turnbull
Dax Carnay-Hanrahan can always be relied upon to come up with the best titles. Over the last five years her company TAYOTAYO collective have made their mark on the Naarm stage with memorable productions including Trans Woman Kills Influencer, Chasing Dick and multiple seasons of The 6 guys an Immigrant Trans Person of Colour will date in Melbourne. Centring Filipino and trans narratives that transcend genre and emphasise joy, euphoria and possibility, Dax not only provides a platform for her own unique gifts but she’s elevating many other local Filipino and queer creatives alongside her.
Mr Big, her latest piece of autofiction is a time bending exploration of the lasting impacts of familial trauma and the cross generational shackles that prevent us from moving forward with our lives.
Carnay-Hanaran plays Diana, a trans woman in present day Melbourne about to get married; an event she repeatedly calls her ‘happy ending’. She’s also the queen of compartmentalisation; navigating her relationship with her fiancé, Jerry (Aidan Gale Miranda), their wedding plans whilst also financially supporting her family in Manila as they organise the funeral for her long-estranged father; her big challenge is keeping those two separated.
Naturally decades of being strong and reliable are getting to her and she’s falling apart at the seams with an incessantly, obtrusive song; static fragments of To be with you are playing in her head. Simultaneously, in mid 90’s Manila Joey is being tormented with the same song as his own life is falling apart as he comes to terms with his failed music career, the exposure of his infidelity and Dion, a child he doesn’t understand.
Beng Oh’s production sensitively explores the fluidity of time and culture with some evocative use of silhouette, shadow and projection. Christina Logan-Bell set and Jordan Hanrahan-Carnay’s projections coalesce beautifully to create an increasingly intense headspace for our two central characters, both of whom are crossing time to haunt each other.
Dax’s text is an exploration into the links between family and construction of gender. A lasting form of pain for Diana is the (for her) irreversible reminder of her father in her resemblance to him in her face and voice and the expectations placed on her as the eldest ‘son’ who had to step up when Joey no longer could. Many eldest daughters will also recognise the sometimes unbearable weight of being responsible for their family emotionally and financially. Joey by contrast is projecting onto Dion his ideal vision of manhood; a rockstar lothario; despite Dion’s clear disinterest and own burgeoning queerness.
Ken Paolo as Dion, the young Diana, is uncanny in their embodiment of what could be a young Dax. Paolo navigates the balance of growing into an authentic sense of self in their voice and mannerisms whilst carrying the pain of not being ‘seen’ by their family and weathering the contempt and fear Joey displays for people like her whilst continuing to delude himself that Dion is going to be a womanising rockstar. Music has been a bond between them since Dion’s childhood, and it’s become a major barrier the more Joey pushes.
Trevor Santos’ Joey occupies a very interesting mode of masculinity; an aging glam rocker; he’s vain, primping, prone to high emotion; acting much like Diana in moments of high stress but he allows himself the privilege of being smug, cocky and willfully dumb. From Santos’ first entrance he perfectly embodies a certain kind of sleazy charm that can be temporarily irresistible and the existential terror of a man at the tail end of Peter Pan Syndrome.
In her Program Notes Carnay-Hanaran describes this piece as a ‘very expensive therapy session’ which provides an opportunity for some interesting reflections on the presentation of autofiction. Her text is very expository, with some often didactic descriptions of the pain she went through. As a piece of drama (and as someone who’s done a lot of therapy-from both sides) I found myself wishing she’d gone a little bit deeper to add some more nuance to the themes she’s already exploring.
The transactional nature of relationships, especially around gender and privilege are alluded to. There’s a line early on where Diana’s fiancé Jerry is described as her ‘Sugar Daddy, soon to be Sugar Husband’ which can read as a joke but does raise some questions about how this aspect of their relationship is dependent on Diana being perceived in a certain way and how that might impact her ability to send money back to Manila. A key source of conflict is Diana’s unwillingness to share her familial situation with Jerry, who’s also going through his own diasporic experience, being biracial and being raised in Australia. I believe that conflict could have been enriched with some clearer and more specific indicators in the text of what makes their relationship work for both of them and why Diana’s unwillingness to disclose aspects of her life to him are such a problem. Likewise, the text makes it clear that Diana does have a certain amount of financial privilege; having the means to emigrate to Australia and able to meet the expectations that she sends money back. Her family, or her mother at least do have a certain level of affluence, her mother owns the house, and Joey isn’t able to contribute financially; a blow to his masculinity. Joey and his friend Nolet (Ayril Borce) talk disparagingly about queer people within their point of reference; namely drag queens and sex workers. There’s an inference that Dion’s gender queerness will mean that she will eventually occupy a lower class than she eventually does and the increased levels of danger and mockery that could expose her to. It’s inferred that that’s not what happened to Diana, her mother Tess for the most part affirming of her in their conversations, though it does raise the question about whether that would be the case if Diana wasn’t so reliable financially.
The text as it stands now uses a lot of repetition and motif and I reflected after that some of the dramaturgy could be used to expand upon the ideas that are already so compelling in the story.
Ayril Borce is cannily double cast as the confidantes of both Joey and Diana. Nolet is a hyper masculine ‘bro’ who is having some kind of sexual relationship with the underage Dion whilst being openly homo and transphobic; this dynamic is also underexplored beyond some coy double entendres. Maybe that’s an experience Diana isn’t ready to process yet, but it does have something to say about how limited the options Dion has to explore her sexuality and how maturity can be projected onto a child or young adult the more capable they seem leaving them vulnerable to sexual exploitation. Alfie, her friend in the present day is likewise in the unique position as a fellow queer Filipino immigrant able to relate to her on a cross-cultural level. Borce is revels in their versatility in their dual roles and pair exceptionally well with Dax; meeting her comedic timing beat for beat. Like the other supporting characters, I think their individual stories and voices could have been refined to enrich their functions within the text.
Likewise, Anna Buenaseda makes a devastating impact later in the play as Tess, Diana’s mother but she does sometimes get lost within the increasing stylisation of Diana and Joey’s distress.
Dax Carnay-Hanaran very rightfully says that it’s dangerous for a trans person to be vulnerable, especially publicly and the opportunity to be flawed, angry and behave self destructively is more often than not the privilege of straight, cis men. I’m frequently of the opinion that the more specifically a story is explored, the more compelling it is to an audience. As a writer and performer, she’s often navigating the difficult intersection of telling a story authentic to herself and those who share her lived experience and not pandering to a white colonialist audience whether they’re queer or not. In this, as in her previous work she’s succeeded admirably. If I think Mr Big aka Tatay, A Transwoman and That Tiring Tune could have had a few more goings over it doesn’t detract from the fact that the latest piece from one of Naarm’s most singular performers and distinctive writers is always going to be worth attending.
Mr Big aka Tatay, A Transwoman and That Tiring Tune is playing at 45 Downstairs until the 5th of July!
Image:Myca Guinchoma
